May I
by Wonder and Ashes
Summary: All Human AU. Mayoral candidate William "Spike" Pratt is down in the polls and down on his luck. But everything changes when he saves the life of Dawn Summers and comes into contact with her family – including her elder sister, Buffy. Holiday fic.
1. Chapter One: Headline

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Chapter Notes**: Response to a challenge on _Elysian Fields_.

I wanted to write a Christmas fic, but since I suck at coming up with my own ideas, I scrolled through the challenge section to see which story I could shoe-horn a Christmas theme into. This one fit the bill. It'll be told in snippets, since I don't have time to write a full-blown story.

And yes, I'm still working on my other fics. They just don't want to be written at the moment. *blames muse*

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><p><em>There you stand, opened heart, opened doors<em>

_Full of life with a world that's wanting more…_

~ _May I_ by Trading Yesterday

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><p><strong>William "Spike" Pratt<strong>

Everything happens at once.

I barely catch a glimpse of the girl before she bumps into me and falls into the road. Even when she's laying right there in front of me I'm still unable to look at her properly, because all my attention is focussed on the oncoming truck that's about to run her over.

I grab the front of her shirt and pull her to safety, and the truck misses her by mere inches.

"You need to watch where you're goin' next time," I tell her. I try not to yell at her for her stupidity, because at the end of the day, kids will be kids. Always so reckless and wild with their need to run anywhere and everywhere.

With her standing before me, I can finally see what she looks like. She's about eleven, with these bright blue eyes similar to my own and long brown hair that comes down to her waist. She tries to avoid eye-contact with me, and only then do I realize just how badly she's dressed.

Like she can't afford a matching outfit to wear.

"Sorry," she mutters, before hurrying past me. I watch her go until she disappears around a corner before continuing on my way.

Now what was I musing about before that girl crashed into me? Oh, yeah. Just how much my life sucks.

Running for Mayor should've been my dream come true. I'd finally get the recognition my mother always said I would get, and more importantly, I'd have the chance to help people. But all that hit the fan when I found out I was running against the man who used to bully me when we were both young boys.

Liam "Angel" O'Connor. Don't ask where the nickname came from; I have no bloody clue.

He's far from an angel. Always likes to play dirty, and the campaign for Mayor was no exception. First he revealed that I used to be called "Spike" as a boy. It was only because of my spiky hair, but Sunnydale of course took it the wrong way. Thought I was part of some street gang back in Britain. The worst rumour I heard was that I got the nickname shoving railroad spikes through people's heads. What is this, 1880?

Lots more followed, but the biggest blow was when he stole Drusilla from me. My Dru; she was never quite sane, but I loved her all the same. Until Angel promised her the world and got her in his bed.

He has a wife, as well. Darla. Although word is, she likes to play "games" with Dru, too.

And adding the two other mistresses the wanker has?

He's a filthy liar, but I know that if I try telling people that, they won't believe me. I can't try a smear campaign; there's no honour, and it'll only make things worse. Instead I resort to drinking myself into oblivion each and every night, trying to forget all that I've lost and that I'll never find happiness.

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><p>I awaken the next morning to the phone ringing.<p>

It's my advisor, Giles. "_Switch on the news, now._"

While I'm confused, I do. I dread what it could say about me; has Angel cooked up another lie to make me look bad?

"_Yesterday afternoon, a speed camera caught footage of Mayoral candidate William Pratt saving a young girl from being hit by a truck…_"

I can't believe it. I see the footage on the screen; it shows the girl bumping into me and falling into the road. It shows me then pulling her to safety before the truck hits her.

"_The girl has been identified as eleven-year-old Dawn Summers…_"

"_You're up two points, Spike_," says Giles. "_The people love it. We need to track this girl down so you can spend some time with her; it'll help your campaign._"

All I can do is nod as I watch the footage replay on the screen over and over.


	2. Chapter Two: Life Sucks

_But I can see when the lights start to fade_

_The day is done and your smile has gone away…_

~ _May I_ by Trading Yesterday

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><p><strong>Buffy Summers<strong>

As if my life couldn't get any more hectic, I now have a politician in my house, spending time with my mother and little sister – and evidently me.

Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful that he saved Dawn's life. She really needs to be more careful when she walks home from school – or runs, as I found out. I'm just glad Mr. Pratt was there to save her when she fell into the road.

He claimed it was what any decent person would've done. Dawn keeps calling him 'Batman', though.

I'm thankful…but I don't know what to do about him helping us. The first time he visited, there were cameras and film crew, and everything was just overwhelming. I really wanted to yell at him for turning his rescue of Dawn into a political campaign, but I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of everyone.

And yet, he keeps on coming back. Without the cameras and the lights and the reporters.

I don't know what his motivations are. He seems to get along fine with Mom and Dawn, and he's promised to help Mom in any way he can. Things are still awkward between him and me, though, although I do catch him looking at me oddly a couple of times. Which just makes me wonder even more what he's up to.

Is it just a campaign, or does he genuinely want to help? And should I accept that help? I've always had issues with pride, but if he really is going to help us, then don't Mom and Dawn deserve that?

"Oh, it's definitely his campaign," says Xander. We're sitting in the Doublemeat Palace during my lunch break. He and Willow always come in to talk to me, else I'll be alone. "All politicians are the same. They say it's to help, and it may feel like he's helping, but it's really all about popularity and gaining the votes he needs to become Mayor."

"But he's not really a politician, though," says Willow. "British nobility, so they say. He moved over here to start over when his Mom died. He's a poet." She shrugs. "And even if Xander's right, he's still helping. Just take it, for your mom and Dawn if not for anything else."

"I know I should." I sigh. "He's promised to confront my father about those payments he "forgot" to pay, and he's also getting medical attention for Mom. He's worried that her condition could be worse than we thought."

Xander sighs. "I still don't trust him. But Willow's right; so long as he's helping, you take it. But I don't know how long he'll help for. As soon as is campaign ends, he'll probably just forget about the three of you."

I try not to think about that. Mom and Dawn already like him a lot, and it would crush them if it turned out that Mr. Pratt was only faking it. But then again, they usually have good judges of character, so he may not be faking it at all and may really want to help us…

"But enough about that guy," says Xander. "You hanging at the Bronze tonight, Buff?"

Yeah, and when was the last time I hung out there? Back in high school, before money became an issue, before I realized that I couldn't afford to go to college, before Mom fell ill, before I had to juggle three jobs just to keep a roof over my family's head…

Why do they keep asking me this? They already know the answer. It's a subtle hint, as it always is, for me to go back to being the Buffy I was before, but I can never go back to being that naïve teenager again. Not now. Not when Mom and Dawn rely on me to put food on the table.

I doubt we'd even be able to afford a proper Christmas dinner this year.

I know Xander and Willow are my friends, but sometimes I wish they'd try to be more understanding. They don't know what it's like; Xander has a pretty good job in construction with a girlfriend, Anya, who owns her own store – where I work as job title number two. Willow goes to college and has a part time job at her parents' bakery alongside her roommate – and possibly girlfriend if the signs are any indication – Tara. She would've gotten a job for me there, but her parents don't like me.

They think I'm a "bad influence", or whatever. I accidentally burn down a school gym just _one_ time…

"Riley will be there," Willow tells me.

Xander nods enthusiastically. "Yeah. He says you've been giving him the cold shoulder lately. You should probably make it up to him."

They're my friends, and they want what's best for me. I get that. But Riley… I'm not happy with him. He knows how hard I have to work to provide for Mom and Dawn, and yet he complains all the time that I don't give him enough attention; that I'm not a good girlfriend for not making him the centre of my life.

I haven't even slept with him yet, and he's holding that against me. I want to have my first time with someone I love, and I don't think that someone is him.

"You both know – like he knows – that I'm busy," I tell them both. "I need to work harder now, because Dawn wants this Christmas to be special, and Mom wants to "restore her hope", or whatever that means."

"But Riley's the best thing that ever happened to you," says Xander. "He's a guy who comes along once in a lifetime-"

"If he's "the best thing that ever happened to me", then why doesn't he understand what my life is like? Why doesn't he help me?" I get up and walk away before they can answer.

I have a job to get back to. Those burgers won't flip themselves.


	3. Chapter Three: Restoring Hope

_Let me raise you up_

_Let me be your love…_

~ _May I_ by Trading Yesterday

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><p><strong>William "Spike" Pratt<strong>

I knew right from the start that I didn't want to use the Summers family. Getting positive press for my campaign is good, but I want to help them; have done ever since I saw that look in the little girl's eyes.

That look of hopelessness. She's given up hope, and I want to restore it.

I've never met a child quite like Dawn Summers. Underneath the hopeless exterior is a sassy, talkative child who's ready to face the world if it would only give her half the chance. I'm afraid that if things only continue to get worse for her family, she'll retreat into a shell she may never be able to escape from. And I don't want that to happen.

Already she's become the sister I never had, and I know from the adoring look in her eyes that she "hero-worships" me. I don't want to let her down.

Joyce Summers reminds me of Mum. She's kind and caring, but also tough and won't take any nonsense from her daughters – which makes me wonder why she takes the same nonsense from her ex-husband. How a woman like her ended up marrying a man like Hank Summers, I'll never know.

But the one thing about her that reminds me of Mum the most is the tragic turning her life has taken. She's ill, and I'm afraid that it's a brain tumour – and that it hasn't been caught in time. She told me that she couldn't afford to get any medical care, and has been ill like this since her eldest left high school.

I'm so afraid that it'll be too late to do anything about it. I couldn't save Mum, and I want to redeem myself in saving the life of Joyce Summers, if only for Dawn's sake.

I get the best doctor money can buy to treat her. I only hope he can do enough. And maybe, just maybe, that will convince Joyce's eldest that I really am helping them.

Buffy Summers. Only eighteen years old, and already she's been tossed head-first into the world of adulthood. A girl like her should be partying at college without a care in the world, not juggling three jobs in order to look after her mother and younger sister. She's too young to have such heavy responsibilities weighing her down.

Fear of confronting her father keeps her from asking him for money, and her pride prevents her from asking anyone else. It makes me frustrated with her, but at the same time it makes me want to wrap her in my arms so I can hide her from the big bad world that's wiped the smile off her beautiful face…

God, I've got to stop thinking like that.

It was after she caught me staring the fifth time that I realized I'm developing feelings for her. She's so beautiful, but she's also only eighteen. Of course she's consenting age, but it still makes me feel guilty thinking about her in that way.

And even if she was older, she would never give a bloke like me a chance. Buffy fits into the same clique as Cecily, the bint who claimed that I was "beneath her" back at school. I can't go through that again – especially so soon after losing Drusilla.

I know that she probably doesn't trust me – anyone can see that from a mile off – but hopefully all that will change. I've already found medical attention for Joyce. Next on the list is visiting one Hank Summers about some payments he "forgot" to send.

I wait outside his building in LA, and when lunch break comes around, he walks out with his secretary on his arm. I hold out my own arm and stop them both before turning to the woman. "If you excuse us. This is a private matter."

The woman rolls her eyes and strides away, her hips swinging purposely from side to side.

"Who do you think you are?" Hank demands. "If you want to talk to me, you'll have to make an appointment."

"Oh, this won't take long," I tell him. "I'm here on behalf of your ex-wife and eldest daughter."

His eyebrow rises. "Are you now? Well, what do they want? It's been years; why haven't they called me?"

"They stopped calling about the same time you stopped sending them cheques in the post."

"Ah, I see what this is about. Well, you tell that bitch-"

I don't who he's referring to – Buffy or Joyce – but I don't care. I grab the scum by the neck and pin him against the wall.

"What you're doin' ain't right, and you know it," I tell him. My voice takes on a threatening tone, and I know that if I'm seen, I'm done for. Even if I don't get arrested, I can kiss my mayoral campaign goodbye.

But that doesn't matter. All I care about is Buffy and her family, and making sure they get some more money coming in.

"Unhand…me…" Hank begins to choke.

"I will when I make things clear," I say. "Joyce and Buffy are too kind-hearted to report you, but I'm happy to inform child services that you haven't been paying for your kids. So you get that first cheque sent by next week, or else not only will people hear about that little neglect, but your boss will find out exactly where his wife was last month."

Hank's eyes widen, and I know he'll get that cheque sent to the Summers girls.

With that taken care off, I move onto the next task on my list: investigating Riley Finn.


	4. Chapter Four: No Blank Slates

**Chapter Notes**: A big thank you to everyone who voted for me at the SunnyD awards! I won **Best New Author**, **Best Romance** (for _A Thousand Years_) and **Best Movie Crossover** (for _La Belle et la Bête_). I was also Runner Up for **Best Fluff** (also for _La Belle et la Bête_).

Here's a very satisfying chapter for you all. :D

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><p><em>All I want is to keep <em>

_you safe from the cold…_

~ _May I_ by Trading Yesterday

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><p><strong>Buffy Summers<strong>

When I was four years old, I saw parts of a Kung Fu movie on the TV and decided I wanted to one day grow up to do that. I didn't want to be a fairytale princess, who waited for men to come and rescue her from dragons and trolls. I wanted to rescue my own handsome prince with my kick-ass skills.

Dad complained sometimes that my classes were too expensive. Mom was all for them, reasoning that I needed to know how to defend myself.

When the money issues started, part of me wished that I hadn't taken them, so we would have at least a bit more money lying around. That regret grew smaller when I was almost mugged one night and I put the guy in hospital without any charges being pressed.

Now my regret's gone.

I gulp down the rest of my water before turning to the class. "That's all for today."

The kids, all aged between eight and twelve, turn to meet their parents, who are waiting by the door. I smile as I watch them leave before turning to fetch my belongings.

William – Spike, he says I can call him, but it feels a little weird – was able to pull some strings and get this job for me. My pride almost got in the way, because part of me still wants to make my own way in the world, but when I saw how much it paid I knew I couldn't turn it down.

Things have been going great since William started helping. Dad's now paying for Dawn's keep, and while we were in the woods for a while when we discovered that Mom had a brain tumour, the doctor was able to get it all out and she's recovering. I have William to thank for all of this.

Turns out prince charming really does exist, but hey, everyone needs saving every once in a while. I shake my head. I have to stop thinking like that. I mean, he's hot and all, but I know that it can't go anyway. Not only is there the decade age gap between us, he's a politician who has more important things to worry about.

But the fact that he's been helping out with the little things – doing chores with Mom around the house and helping Dawn with her homework – makes me think that maybe he really does care, and it's not because of his campaign. He's done so much for us…

I sigh as my mind wanders to something William recently brought to my attention.

Riley's been sleeping with whores. And honestly, I'm not as upset as I should be. I don't think I'm even upset at all. Because I know that I don't love Riley; I don't even think I _like_ him.

When Willow introduced me to him, explaining that he was her Psych class TA, she made the hint that having a boyfriend would be good for me. Xander agreed; having someone around who I can rely on would help ease the tension of my life, and for that one small moment, I thought the two of them could be right.

But then Riley started getting pushy, as did my friends. They wanted me to hang out with them, knowing fully well that I didn't have the time, and then made me feel bad about "ignoring" them. I don't know why they did that; shouldn't friends and boyfriends understand? Isn't that what they're there for?

Riley grew more persistent as time went on. He even tried to convince me to tell William to stay out of my life, and when I explained that William was helping, Riley ranted on and on about how I was just a girl and fell for men's games too easily, and that I needed him to help guide me through it…

I don't know why I didn't dump him then and there. Maybe it's because part of me was hoping that he'd come around; prove that he's still the nice guy I met that first night. But now I know what kind of guy he really is, and honestly, I'm not surprised.

I'm just angry at myself for letting this go on far longer than it should've done.

When I leave the gym, I head straight over to Riley's place. I've already called him in advance, telling him that I know about the whores. I'm curious to know what kind of excuse he'll use.

I don't take my coat off when I get there. I won't be staying long.

"So let me guess," I begin. "You slept with those whores because I wasn't fulfilling all your needs?" I know this must be the reason, what with how much he was pushing me to sleep with him.

"Look, I know I screwed up, and it won't happen again," he says. "But I needed a girl to _need_ me. You were being all with the self-righteousness and determination to make it on your own-"

"_Seriously?!_" I resist the urge to slap him. "I know I have issues with pride, but that's just part of who I am, Riley. And I _have_ needed you. I needed you to be understanding; to be around whenever I needed someone to talk to. And if you were half the decent guy I thought you to be, then you would've known that. But instead you expected me to go out with you and hang off your arm like you were the greatest guy in the world!"

"You don't need me. Those girls did." He looks away, but not because he's ashamed. He's trying to make me feel guilty. "They made me feel important."

"No. You just wanted to sleep with someone, and since I wasn't giving you what you wanted, you took it from them." I throw up my arms in frustration. "Love isn't all about sex, Riley! I want my first time to be special; not just a casual thing with a guy I'm not sure I even _like_, let alone _love_!"

"_I_ love you!"

I shake my head. "No. I really don't think you do, otherwise you would understand what I'm going through. Mom was sick. Dawn was getting into trouble at school. And I was trying to juggle three jobs in order to keep my family fed and a roof over our heads. And yet you were complaining that I never had time for you. Well, I'm sorry I was too busy taking care of my family. I'll let them starve next time. Will that make you feel better?"

He continues to look away, not wanting to admit that I'm right and not wanting to admit to his mistakes.

"The military want be back," he says suddenly, looking up so his eyes meet mine. "The last transport is leaving tonight. If we can't work this out…"

I can't believe what he's telling me. "You're giving me an ultimatum? You want me to just give you a _fucking_ blank slate after what you put me through?! Well, I'm not giving you a reason to stay. You get the _fuck_ out of this town and don't let the door hit you in the ass."

I storm out of his apartment, and I know that I won't see him again. Riley's not stupid; he knows it's over between us, and he always spoke fondly of his time in the military. He'll want to go back.

I turn the corner to go down the street, and I almost bump into Willow and Xander. I can tell instantly by their expressions that they've been eavesdropping.

"Buffy-"

I cut Willow off before she can continue. "Did you hear all that? Did you hear what he did? How he made me feel? I don't want any support-o speeches from either of you. I'm done for tonight."

"We were just trying to help you," Xander tries.

"And look how that turned out," I tell them both. "You both kept on saying that Riley was good for me, but right from the start he never understood my life – and frankly, neither do either of you."

"We understand," says Willow.

But I shake my head. "No, you really don't. You've both got it easy, but when I left high school, I had to face the reality of life. Mom couldn't work, so I had to work for her. I had to juggle three jobs on top of taking care of Mom, and Dawn made things worse by acting out in school. You two are my friends; you should've been helping in any way you could. Instead you kept making not-so-subtle hints that I should be out partying with you both like the old Buffy used to do, and convincing me to date a guy who was no better was just the icing on a bitter-tasting cake. Look, I get that you guys only wanted to see me happy, but next time, think a bit more carefully about what that means."

"But things are better now," says Xander.

"Yeah, they are now, but that doesn't change your actions," I tell them. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you guys a blank slate over this. You're my friends, and you should've known better. Instead the only one who understood was a man who could've easily just walked away from my family, but instead chose to help out of the kindness of his heart. Think about that."

I walk away, refusing to look back.


	5. Chapter Five: Confession

_To give you all that _

_your heart needs the most…_

~ _May I_ by Trading Yesterday

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><p><strong>William "Spike" Pratt<strong>

I'm in love with her.

I, William Pratt, have fallen head over heels in love with the effulgent Buffy Summers.

I tried bloody hard not to fall for her. I kept telling myself that it wasn't right – she's only eighteen, we're from two completely different worlds, I'm beneath her – but in retrospect that only made me love her even more. Why do I always fall for the unattainable women?

It's not like things are still awkward between us. It was slow coming, but she opened up to me sometime after I got a doctor for her mother, and our friendship only grew with the added trust from telling her about her wanker of an ex-boyfriend, and there was getting her that job…

I don't want to make her think that I'm only doing this to "get in her pants", as the kids say these days. She's only just realized that I'm helping because I _want_ to help and not because of my campaign. It's almost like she was trying to find a fault with me during those first two weeks, but when I thought about it, I realized what was really bugging her, something she didn't realize herself.

She doesn't think she deserves it. Her life got so bad that even now, she thinks she's undeserving of my help. And I want to make her realize that she deserves the world and more.

I know I don't deserve her – don't I bloody well know it – but I want to bring a smile to her face regardless.

I take my chance and ask her out when Joyce has recovered enough from her operation to be at home alone with Dawn. I tell her it's to celebrate her mother's recovery, but I know she doesn't buy it. She thinks I'm up to something; no doubt she'll ask what that is when we're out.

I hope to make a good impression before that question comes.

When the night arrives I get to her house early, dressed in my best suit. Buffy's still getting ready, and I wait downstairs with Joyce and Dawn while making small talk. I'm nervous and I keep stuttering, but they don't mind.

"In my books, being nervous is a good thing," says Joyce. "It shows that you care; that you want nothing more than to make your girl's night one to remember, and you're worried about messing it up. I have no doubt about your intentions; I would be worried if you came here with an air of confidence."

Joyce's words of subtle approval fill me with happiness. I know that had she not approved of me dating her daughter, I would've backed down immediately despite knowing that it would tear me apart. Of course knowing that she approves doesn't send away the fear that any minute now, she'll take out an axe and use it to chase me out of the house.

It isn't long before Buffy enters the kitchen, and I'm almost certain I'm embarrassing myself by just staring at her with my mouth open and without saying a word, but I can't help it. She's just so beautiful.

"Sorry," she apologizes, gesturing to her dress. "This is all I have."

Why is she apologizing? The dress doesn't matter. I'm able to escape Heaven long enough to notice why she may feel the need to apologize – the dress is plain and most likely didn't cost much – but it's not about what she wears. That girl could wear a potato sack and she'd still look gorgeous.

"I don't think Spike cares," says Dawn. I hide a smile at the fact that she's comfortable enough with me to use my nickname, even though it's not the first time she has. "His jaw almost hit the floor when you entered."

I know I'm blushing and I look away – but not before I catch Buffy blushing, too.

Joyce guides us towards the door. "You two have fun now, and have her home by eleven, young man." Her smile lets me know that she's teasing, and a little more weight is lifted from my shoulders.

But then we're out the door and I'm alone with Buffy.

What's my name again?

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><p>I don't think I've ever faced a dilemma greater than where to take Buffy out to dinner. Would she think I'm showing off if I take her to the most expensive restaurant in town? But then, would she accuse me of being cheap – especially with her – if I took her to any other place?<p>

Rupert, in the end, advised me to ask her where she would like to go. I did when I asked her out, and she suggested a nice little Italian place she used to visit with her parents all the time when she was younger. A place she likes, nice and quiet, and also comes with sentimental value. Perfect.

The atmosphere doesn't stay awkward for very long. Buffy and I are soon talking about our common interests; I ask her about her new job, and I can tell by her bright smile that she loves it. She admits that she's glad to finally be able to talk to someone about it, since no one else understands the names to all the moves, how they're carried out and so on. Like her, I've taken martial arts since I was very young.

I'm almost afraid that an argument will arise when the bill comes, and Buffy becomes determined to pay for it. "I finally have money; I want to pay for your meal, especially after everything you've done."

It's like being at a crossroads. On the one hand, it's been hard-wired into me to give the lady whatever she wants. On the other hand, it's also been hard-wired into me that a gentleman always pays for a lady's meal. But if I bring that up, her "girl power" side with lash out, and I know not to get on the wrong side of it.

We compromise on the agreement that she pays for the main course while I pay for dessert.

It's still fairly early by the time we make our way out of the restaurant, so I decide to take Buffy down to the beach. It's a clear night, if a little chilly, and while I wanted to take her for a walk along the beach, when we get there we both decide to just sit on the hood of my car and watch the waves from afar.

I wrap my jacket around her when I notice that she's cold.

"Dawn said that you're in love with me."

I sigh and look away. Part of me somehow knew that Dawn wouldn't be able to stop herself from spilling the beans; she's young. I don't blame her for it. It may have just been a slip of the tongue. That was how Dawn found out in the first place, when I was helping her with homework one night and I let slip my true feelings for her big sis.

But what do I do now? How do I tell this girl – this _woman_ – my true feelings in a way that doesn't send her running for the hills?

I can just open my mouth and let words come out. There's a chance those words may be the right ones, but at the same time there's a chance they'll be the wrong ones. Then again, if I try to say the rights words I know I'm screwed for sure. So take a chance it is.

"I've been alive a bit longer than you. 'A bit longer' being a decade, but…" Stay on topic… "I've seen things, done things… I've learnt things. I don't have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my heart, which doesn't exactly pump blood in the direction of my brain. So I've made some bad choices; a lot of wrong bloody calls. But in all my twenty-eight years of life, there's only one thing I've ever been sure of: you."

"I…" Buffy looks away and my heart breaks a little. I can't tell if she's embarrassed or just shy.

I gently reach out and rest my hand under her chin, turning her back to face me. "Hey, look at me. I'm not asking you for anything. When I say 'I love you', it's not because I want you, or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you _are_, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy."

Maybe I said too much. She's had enough pressure on her to last her a lifetime; the last thing she needs is a declaration of love from a man she doesn't have feelings for. But what I've told her is the truth, and I can't take it back.

I only hope that when she breaks my heart, she doesn't break me in the process by denying me the family I've found in the Summers girls.


	6. Chapter Six: Princess Charming

_All that's made me is all worth trading_

_Just to have one moment with you…_

~ _May I_ by Trading Yesterday

* * *

><p><strong>Buffy Summers<strong>

I can't breathe. At least, that's what it feels like, because if I can't breathe then I'd be dead, and I'd think I'd know it if I was dead or dying, but then again I wouldn't be surprised if I'd died and gone to Heaven…

Stop. I'm babbling in my head. Great.

I just…I just can't process anything right now. William's words – his _words of love_ – keep bouncing around in my head, and I don't know how to react. Before, I told myself that it wouldn't work between us because of his status and the age gap, while avoiding the temptation of how hot he is – and how sweet.

And yet here he is, declaring his love for me, and I'm stunned speechless.

I'm not even sure _what_ I feel for him. When we first met, I wanted to hate him, and maybe I did for a little bit. But that hatred died the longer he stuck around, and when I realized that he's not going to abandon my family the first chance he gets, I couldn't _not_ like him.

Like him? Yeah. Consider dating him? Yeah.

Love him as much as he obviously loves me?

I'm only eighteen. When I first crushed on a guy named Owen back when I was fifteen, Mom sat me down and didn't let me get up again until it was drilled into my brain that a first love is what it is in itself; a first love. I'm not going to meet the guy I'm gonna marry when I'm a teenager. Something about my brain not being developed enough to handle long-term decision making and emotional commitment, or something like that.

Eighteen is still kind of young…but already I've matured a lot more than I would've liked over these past few months. I think I aged ten years the night Mom not only explained to me our financial issues, but also that she was ill.

Maybe I could love him someday. Maybe. But right now – getting used to not working my ass off just to make ends meet and not taking care of Mom and Dawn – I need some time.

Only, I can't bring myself to tell him that. William's done so much for us, and to deny him some form of happiness makes me feel almost ungrateful. Undeserving. How could a girl like me – who was living in semi-poverty only a few weeks ago – deserve to be loved completely by such a caring man like William?

And then there's this tiny voice in my mind keeps repeating over and over that if I accept a relationship with him, I'll look like some gold digger…

"I'm not asking you for anything," says William, and his voice brings me from my thoughts. "I just… I needed to tell you how I felt. Only now I've realized that I've probably bolloxed things up since the last thing I ever wanted to do was put you under more pressure… Bloody hell, I'm an idiot…"

He trails off, looking away, and my heart breaks a little. He just looks so…vulnerable.

What can I do?

* * *

><p>How many Christmas parties can politicians have? Too many, is the answer.<p>

It isn't even December yet. Of course, this party is celebrating switching on the Christmas lights in town – and I swear that happens earlier every year – so I guess it isn't completely unnecessary.

And really, I have something to celebrate this year; not getting weighed down by jobs and money fears. And Dawn being the one to press the big red button that switches on the lights. A child is picked out every year to do it, and it came as a surprise to pretty much _no one_ that Dawn was picked this year.

Mom took her home after a picture with Santa. They would've stayed for the party, but it's past Dawn's bedtime and Mom can't do crowds yet. She's slowly but surely getting better, and none of us want to make it worse.

So I'm left to brave a party-full of people I don't know with William – who admits to me quietly that _he_ doesn't know half of the guests. They're mostly here for his rival, Liam "Angel" O'Connor.

I can't believe I used to have a crush on that guy. A proper teenage, school girl crush. But all the girls in my school did, so I can't really be blamed, can I? I remember being supremely jealous when Harmony Kendall started bragging to everyone that the guy had taken her out for dinner before she gave him her virginity, but my jealousy only lasted until I realized that the guy was married, so Harmony was probably lying.

But now I wonder if maybe she was telling the truth.

William told me that Angel is nothing but a fraud; a guy who pretends he cares but is really only doing all this to get attention and money. I mean, the guy has three mistresses _that William knows of_ – one of whom is William's former girlfriend, Drusilla – and a wife who's just as bad as he is.

Basically, Angel's the kind of guy I _thought_ William to be when I first met him.

Meaning that the entire town has the worst judge of character _ever_.

And speak of the devil… Just as I'm walking out the bathroom, I catch sight of Angel leaning against the wall _too_ casually for my liking. Somehow I know he's waiting for me, and I debate whether or not I should just turn around and walk straight back into the bathroom and out of reach. But I don't want to look like a coward, and he'll probably still be waiting for me no matter how long I stay in there.

And if I stay in there too long, William will grow worried which might cause a scene if he came looking for me…

I keep walking, avoiding eye contact; pretending that Angel doesn't even exist. I'm probably walking a little too fast for it to be believable, but hopefully he'll get the message that I don't want to talk…

I resist the urge to fling him over my shoulder when he grabs my arm. "Hold your horses there, Miss Summers. I want to talk to you."

I turn to him, putting on the biggest smile I can muster. If it looks fake, I don't care. Maybe that'll get the message across. "Mr. O'Connor. I didn't see you there." Has his Irish accent always been this annoying, or was I too far gone over his "angelic" face to notice before?

William's accent is way sexier. And god, did I really just think that?

"I really don't know what you see in little Willie," says Angel. "For starters he _has_ one, if you know what I mean."

It takes a moment for his words to register. "It's probably bigger than yours."

His hand tightens on my arm slightly and he grits his teeth, but not enough for it to be visible to anyone who isn't me. He keeps that smile on his face, though. "It's his money, isn't it? You're nothing but a little gold digger, aren't you? Poor and struggling, you saw a way to get money and used it to your advantage. Probably staged that thing with your sister, didn't you?"

"You're not going to get a rise out of me," I tell him. I know what he's doing. "It won't work, turning William's kindness into a smear campaign."

"I actually wanted to congratulate you," says Angel, and his words catch me off guard. "Using William's idiocy like that to achieve your own ends. It was all too easy for you. But if you wanted money fast…" Then he laughs, and a hand reaches out to caress my cheek, "…all you had to do was come to me and ask."

My free hand grabs his while I pull away from the hand that grips my arm. "If you know what my new job is, then you won't try that again. And I have pride; I'll never turn myself into some glorified _prostitute_ to get money."

He laughs again. "Oh, you'll come to me eventually. They always do. William's last girl, Drusilla; she resisted, just like you did. But she came. Although I _did_ have to drive her a little crazier than she already was. It's only a matter of time, and I'm a patient man. I have ways of being…persuasive."

With one last_ creepily perverted_ smile, he turns and walks away.

OK, he is _so_ going down. I'll find a way to make people see just how much of a creep he is. Even now – after helping my family – William is down in the polls, and I'll jump into a portal to Hell before I let that jerk Mr. O'Connor win over him. William may have let the so called "Angel" walk all over him, but no more.

I'll just have to be his Princess Charming and come to his rescue.


	7. Chapter Seven: Exposed

_So I will let go with all that I know_

_Knowing that you're here with me…_

~ _May I_ by Trading Yesterday

* * *

><p><strong>William "Spike" Pratt<strong>

My mother once told me that it's wrong to gloat. And it is. But I really, really want to send Angel a picture of my own personal two-finger salute. Buffy thinks I should. Dawn practically dared me to do it.

Hell, even Joyce reluctantly agreed – albeit with a smile on her face – that going 'nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah' was OK, because Angel's a twat.

The pillock got exposed for all his shit. And I have Buffy – my wonderful, gorgeous, clever Buffy – to thank. She got confronted by the wanker at the last Christmas party, which did nothing but give her the determination to bring him down. Knowing that the wanker went anywhere near her is enough to clench my fists, but at least now he's paying for all he's done.

Over-confident git. Had no idea she'd hidden a tape recorder on her upon the second confrontation. How she got him to sing like a bird so easily, I'll never know.

Going to the press with the evidence was the first move. They were all over it; nothing like a corrupt politician to make the headlines and sell papers. The story even made the bigger news networks, not just Sunnydale's. I was shocked when I woke up and saw the great git's face on the TV screen with the headline underneath, and when the shock wore off I just grinned.

My grin only widened when I discovered that Buffy had been behind it. God, I love that woman so much.

The real investigation started when Liam's secretary and personal assistant – Cordelia Chase and Nina Ash – came forwards with more evidence. The git had promised them the world, and instead they'd become his mistresses. They were both too scared to leave as they had nothing else, having been in similar situations to Buffy. It makes my heart stop, knowing that had things gone on long enough, Buffy could've become desperate enough to do the same…

I shake my head. Buffy would never have done that. She's too proud – has too strong a will.

And Drusilla… I shed tears for my former love when I saw her, even more broken than she was before. Her time with Angel has done nothing good for her mental state. I heard from a friend that she's going to Prague to stay with relatives who can help. She'll never be sane again – she wasn't really sane to begin with – but they can help her heal as much as she can. And I'm glad.

Dru will always hold a place in my heart – but my heart doesn't belong to her anymore.

I smile as I follow Buffy to her house, groceries in hand. She did it – she exposed Angel – for me. When I asked, she replied honestly that she hated what the git was doing to me; how he was getting all the attention while I was getting kicked to the curb. She said I didn't deserve that, because I'm a good man.

Maybe that's all I'll ever get from Buffy – a strong friendship with protective instincts on the side – and honestly, it's more than I ever expected, so I can't complain.

I'm able to open the door with my free hand. "We're back, Joyce," I call out.

"She told me this morning that she was gonna stop by the gallery," says Buffy. "She wants to see how it's doing."

I nod as I recall Joyce telling me about the gallery she used to own and run, and how she'd been forced to give it up when she fell ill. It's sad, because she always talked about her gallery with a passion that rivals Buffy's talk about martial arts. Maybe I can buy it back for her, as a Christmas present. That'll make her happy.

Buffy and I enter the kitchen and put the groceries down. "So when's your next class?"

"I was meant to give a private lesson to a group of siblings this afternoon," Buffy replies. "But they cancelled yesterday. I need to ring them and ask when they want to re-book. Thanks for reminding me." She leaves the kitchen to grab the phone.

I begin to unpack the food. "Are they a rich bunch?"

Instead of replying, Buffy says, "Mom! You're home! What're you doing?"

So Joyce is home, after all. "Hello, Joyce. How was the gallery?"

Silence. I wonder if she heard me, but then I hear Buffy say, "Mom?"

I pause what I'm doing and turn. I can't see Buffy from where I'm standing, but somehow I know that she's not moving. And neither is Joyce.

Something's wrong.

"Mom?"

I abandon the groceries and hurry towards the voice that has grown quieter.

I freeze when I see her.

Joyce lies deathly still on the couch in the living room.

And only slightly blocking my view is Buffy, standing in the threshold…and trying not to let the world collapse around her.

"…Mommy?"


	8. Chapter Eight: The Body

_For your love is changing me…_

~ _May I_ by Trading Yesterday

* * *

><p><strong>Buffy Summers<strong>

Stay strong.

Gotta stay strong.

Dawn crumples against me. She cries and cries and I just want her to stop hurting.

I still hurt. But I don't show it.

William is behind me, ready. In case I need him. And I do. I need him to just be here, doing what he's doing. I imagine what it would be like if Riley was here in his place, and I hate the mental image. He'd expect me to crumple against him, just like Dawn is against me, and be the weak one while he's the strong one.

William – Spike, I think I can use his nickname now – doesn't expect anything from me. Anything. He's just there, doing what I need him to do.

I lean against him slightly.

* * *

><p>Brain aneurysm. A result of the surgery to remove the tumour.<p>

I want to hate the doctor for doing something wrong. He says that there was a risk from the very beginning, and that Mom knew.

Mom knew. Why didn't she tell me?

I already know the answer. Because my life already sucked enough at the time. For the most part, anyway.

Was it better to stay in blissful ignorance with this great shock? Or would it have been better if she told me and I prepared for this?

Stay strong.

Gotta stay strong.

Spike tells me how his mother died.

* * *

><p>It's me, Dawn and Spike for a long time. Then his advisor, Rupert Giles, arrives to give support. He and Mom talked a lot. He brings his wife, Jenny. She and Mom talked a lot, too.<p>

Willow comes. Tara's with her.

I let Dawn lean on Tara for support. Her mom died when she was seventeen. She says that it's always sudden. She understands. Tara always understands.

She's the reason Willow was first to talk to me after Riley left. She apologized for her actions; she only wanted me to be happy again, and thought that doing things the old Buffy would do was the best way to get me smiling again. Only in her determination, she didn't see that she was just making things worse.

Knowing that she had seen her error, I forgave her. And I'm glad that she's here now, willing to do anything to help me get through this.

Xander was harder, but help from Anya got him to come around, too. He admitted to being selfish in wanting the old me back, and in that selfishness, lost sight of what he really wanted: me happy again.

He arrives shortly after Willow and Tara with Anya in tow. No one speaks for a long time, but none of us have to.

Stay strong.

Gotta stay strong.

* * *

><p>Dad doesn't show up for the funeral. Thank god.<p>

Outside my friends and Spike's colleagues, a few of Mom's friends and colleagues show up, too.

She's buried in a nice spot. By a tree she admitted to liking the last time we took a shortcut through the cemetery.

Everyone tells me they're 'sorry' when they leave, one by one. I just nod. 'Sorry' has become the most meaningless word to me. I know they are, but saying 'sorry' doesn't make things any better.

Stay strong.

Gotta stay strong.

I try. I really, really try. But when the social worker takes me aside and explains the situation…

Stay strong.

Gotta…

I collapse against Spike and cry myself dry.

* * *

><p>"You…"<p>

Spike nods almost sheepishly, showing me the paperwork. "You'll both have to move in with me, of course. That's all they require, though. Just sign on the dotted line, and we have shared custody. No shipping her off to your bastard father or some foster home."

I fly forwards and hug him, tightly, while crying tears of joy. Dawn's not being taken away from me. She gets to stay.

And all because of Spike.

God, I think I love this man.


	9. Chapter Nine: Night Before Christmas

_May I hold you as you fall to sleep_

_When the world is closing in_

_And you can't breathe…_

~ _May I_ by Trading Yesterday

* * *

><p><strong>William "Spike" Pratt<strong>

I always thought I'd be overwhelmed if I ever won the election, but that was when I used to think that I was up against unbeatable odds which were _not_ in my favour.

Things have changed since then, and while I'm happy to win, I'm not overwhelmed. It could have something to do with the fact that I won by default, since Liam got kicked out of the running when he was exposed and he was my only competition. But it's not that.

Because in contrast to everything else, it doesn't matter.

So what if I'm the Mayor of Sunnydale? It's Christmas, I have a family, and that's all that matters.

Not a full family, mind you. I would give anything for my mum to be here, and Joyce. But a family all the same.

We fell into routine after Buffy and Dawn moved in – or as "routine" as things could be with the preparations for Christmas on top of everything else. I can tell that the girls are still grieving the loss of Joyce, but they're moving on with their lives, which is honestly the best thing they can do. Joyce wouldn't want them to stay miserable.

"I want nothing more than to just curl up into a ball and cry," says Buffy one morning, after we've dropped Dawn off at school. It's her first day back since the tragedy, and convincing her to go back took a lot of…effort the previous night.

Dawn had yelled at Buffy for seemingly moving on so quickly. It was a harsh call out, because anyone with eyes can see that Buffy is struggling to keep it all inside. Keep it all hidden, for Dawn's sake. 'Stay strong' is her motto, and it's a good one to have.

After a good cry, Dawn agreed to go to school. I came with them, pushing back my first PTA meeting just so I could.

"Doesn't sound like you," I tell her.

She shrugs. "I know. But it's how I feel. A little part of me just doesn't care, because she's gone and how can I live without Mom? But then I look at Dawn and I know that I have to keep going. I have to be brave and keep on living. For Dawn, for myself…for you." She looks at me then, shyly, and her cheeks turn a little red.

Her grief isn't the only thing I've noticed. She's been happier around me, instead of the tense awkwardness – her words, not mine – that had settled between us on most occasions since I confessed my love for her. Things eased a little after Liam was exposed, but I half expected for that ease to wear off over time, even after Joyce's death.

And yet she keeps giving me these little smiles, and I can't bring myself to hope that they could mean… No, I can't. I'll just get my heart broken all over again.

* * *

><p>Christmas Eve. I haven't had to put out a mince pie, carrot and a glass of milk in years, but since Dawn still believes in Old Saint Nick, I'm happy to. While she panics over the lack of chimney – I get one of those "magic keys" which makes her sigh with relief – she does have a giggle over the mince pie.<p>

"We always used to put out cookies," she claims.

"A full plate? It's no wonder he's fat."

She giggles some more, and then Buffy and I put her to bed.

The biggest surprise comes when I sit down to watch some late night telly. Buffy approaches, and out of the corner of my eye I see her hesitate. Then she walks over to me, and as if it's the most natural thing in the world, she sits on the couch right next to me and leans her head against my chest.

Paradise. Utter paradise. I dare not say a word and shatter this blissful peace between us, so I continue to watch the telly. I do put my arm around her, however, which was really the only option anyway since it was getting squished but that doesn't mean I didn't want to because I did but only if Buffy wanted me to which she clearly does-

OK. Deep breath.

My fingers run through her golden locks and she sighs.

The film we're watching ends some time later, and yet she doesn't move. I feel like I should move, but I don't want to lose her warmth. Is that selfish? I suppose it can't be if she likes it, which she clearly does, since she hasn't moved yet and is making no effort to move-

Does Buffy babble this much in her own head?

"I got you two presents."

I'm surprised when she speaks. I wasn't expecting it. "Oh?"

"One's under the tree." She half-heartedly points at the large Christmas tree across the room and the large pile of presents underneath it. Most of them Dawn's. I went overboard with her and Buffy. "The other's…not."

"What do you mean?" I ask curiously.

She sits up and looks at me. "It's something I've been thinking about, and nothing you say will change my mind. I know how gentleman-y you can be."

I chuckle. "Gentleman-y. I knew getting you that dictionary was a good move. It's buried in there somewhere." I gesture over to the tree, the smirk never leaving my face.

"Oh you're such a comedian." She rolls her eyes. "But I'm serious. I've thought about it, and I've made my decision. You can't change it."

"I doubt I could, pet," I tell her. "I've seen how stubborn you can be."

"Good." She nods before rising to her feet and holding her hand out to me.

For a flash of a second I miss her warmth, but she's holding out her hand to me so that's a good sign. I take it, still curious as to what's going on in that head of hers, and she pulls me up before leading me to the bedrooms.

So my present's in her room? It must be too obvious what it is even with wrapping, since she didn't put it under the tree…

I frown when we pass her room. I realize that she's leading me to mine.

And suddenly – just as she's about to push open the door – I realize what she wants to do. Leading me to my bedroom and taking into account what she said before…

I freeze, which causes her to stop.

She turns and gives me a look that's almost _too_ innocent. "What's the matter? Don't you want it?"

I know she knows I've figured it out. "I do. God, Buffy… You have no idea how much I want it…want _you_. But…luv, you have to really think about what you're doin'. 'Cause if you're only doin' this out of some kind of gratitude…"

I don't want to hurt her. And if that means turning her down…

She smiles, and in her eyes I see wisdom that shouldn't be there. Not in someone so young. Her hand cups my cheek. "While I'm grateful – so grateful – for everything you've done, that's not what this is about."

"You're young…"

"I know. I counted the birthdays myself." She keeps smiling. "And yet I feel older. Everything that happened to me… It sucked, don't get me wrong, and I'm glad it's over. But it helped me grow up and realize that the hardest thing to do in this world is to live in it. Before all that happened to me… Well, let's just say I'm embarrassed to show you any home videos of my time back in high school."

I paint a picture in my head. Short skirts, cheerleading, doodling hearts on notebooks… It's a far cry from the mature Buffy stood before me. "I'll bribe Dawn to show me later."

Her hand leaves my cheek and she gives my shoulder a light, playful shove. "I feel like I've age so much over these past months. I've learnt things – realized things – that were always there before but I was too caught up in my own little bubble of denial to realize. Mom always struggled to put food on the table, but I never paid attention. I just wanted to stay in that damn river in Egypt because I was happy there, and I guess if I'm honest, I was scared to come out of it and face what was waiting for me on the shore. Mom dragged me out of it the day she told me she was ill, and since then, I haven't looked back."

"As insightful as this is, it doesn't explain…" I gesture towards the bedroom.

She nods. "What I'm trying to say is… I'm ready. I may be young, but I'm ready."

"But Buffy…" This time my hand comes up to rest on her cheek. "What you're offerin' me… It can only be given once. And I don't want to take that from you and have you regret it for the rest of your life. You told me the reason you didn't sleep with Finn was because you didn't love him. You wanted your first time to be with someone you love."

"Exactly."

I frown. That doesn't really answer my…

Wait.

Did…did she just…?

My eyes widen.

As does her smile. "Just figured out how lucky you're about to get?"

Time's stopped. I swear it has.

I can do nothing but stare at Buffy as the implications sink in. "You…you…"

"Yes. I love you. So are you gonna unwrap your Christmas present, or not?"

I should be ashamed of how quickly my resolve crumbles, but can anyone blame me?


	10. Chapter Ten: Family

_May I love you, may I be your shield_

_When no one can be found_

_May I lay you down_

~ _May I_ by Trading Yesterday

* * *

><p><strong>Buffy Summers<strong>

Beautiful.

That's one word to describe it. There's also tender, gentle, loving…

I never knew it could be like that. Then again I came from a school where all I heard on the subject matter is the hot and sweaty one night stands of Harmony Kendall – plus others, although not as often.

I remember when Willow had her first time with her ex-boyfriend, Oz – before she came out as gay – and while she gave some details, she wanted to keep it private and I respected that.

There's never any privacy when it comes to Anya and her nights with Xander, but I mostly tune those out. Traumatized is not something I want to be.

Don't get me wrong. I always knew a first time would be amazing. But in those mind-blowing ways, like the ones in those slutty romance novels Mom had a guilty pleasure for; where it's nothing but hot and sweaty, and passionate…

Oh, Spike was passionate. Just not in the way I expected.

Everything…

Everything he did was better than I expected.

I can't see his face – seeing as we're spooned together, my back tucked against his chest – but I know there's that tender smile of his, one that remained there throughout. Plus there's his soft hair which immediately started to curl the moment we hit the bed sheets. He had been embarrassed by them, until I mentioned that he needed to wear his hair like that more often.

I like his curly hair.

I like – I love – his everything.

I know I should be concerned about how fast I'm falling for him – Mom warned me about falling this fast into relationships – but what's happening isn't ringing any warning bells. And what I feel now is nothing compared to the fluttery butterflies I felt for Owen or the schoolgirl crush I felt for Angel. I feel like I'm ready for a mature, loving relationship instead of some high-school fling like the ones that always get dramatized on TV.

This is real romance. This is love.

And how he made love to me…

I snuggle into his arms and in his sleep he pulls me closer, if that's possible. I smile. I don't need to think about anything right now, like how amazing it was. All I need to do is feel.

* * *

><p>Dawn's up first, of course.<p>

She's not as innocent as I pretend she is in terms of what grown-ups get up to when they share a bed, and she smirks at me when she finally stops jumping on our bed.

Our bed. I'm already thinking couple-y thoughts.

We're still in our PJs and buried in wrapping paper when the first guests arrive. Rupert and Jenny, who have come to help with Christmas dinner preparations. Once I'm dressed and no longer blushing from the knowing looks Jenny sends my way, I help her peel vegetables while the men handle the meat.

We get into talking, during which I discover that Jenny's from Romania and is descended from a clan of Romani travellers that dates back centuries. An achievement, and it's a shame when she tells me that the clan broke apart due to several reasons which all connect with the modern world.

Jenny was like me – a woman living in semi-poverty – until Rupert took her in. I glance over at the two men and smile. It must be a British thing.

Willow and Tara arrive to help, and Xander and Anya arrive right before dinner is served. I make a joke about them timing it right just so they didn't have to help out, meaning that they get clean-up duty, but then Anya starts to explain that the reason they're late is because they got distracted in the car by a new "toy" she got him for Christmas, and thankfully Spike is able to interrupt before Dawn is scarred for life – scratch that, before we're _all_ scarred for life.

It's only when we're all sat around the table together that a sense of something swells within me, and I know what it is almost instantly.

A sense of family.

And to think this all started because Dawn wasn't watching where she was going.


End file.
